


Hair to Dye For

by Fishpaste



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, Hair Dyeing, Hair dye gone wrong, Light-Hearted, Poor Ronnie, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishpaste/pseuds/Fishpaste
Summary: We were all curious as to why Ron has his hair such a distinctive colour weren't we? He'd rather we didn't know the truth though.





	Hair to Dye For

There was some sort of small angry man in his skull with a hammer, beating out a pounding rhythm against Ron’s brain. He groaned weakly and tried to shake him out, but the movement only seemed to aggravate him and Ron gave up and cracked open a bleary eye to peer at what the morning had left him. Wherever he was seemed to be nicely dark at least…no stabbing light into his hungover head, and he was lying somewhere warm and comfortable, both definite plus signs, though the absence of any companion next to him meant last night hadn’t gone entirely his way. 

The man inside his skull wasn’t shutting up, and now that he was awake Ron could feel the aches of a hard night out calling for attention. His tongue felt like it was covered in carpet, his stomach groaned rebelliously and every muscle in his body felt like it was weighed down with lead weights. This was absolutely the last time he got into any form of drinking game with Eric or Grelle. Hopefully Alan had managed to stop them doing anything too stupid…

He peeled himself off the sofa he was sprawled across, fumbling around until he found his glasses and pushing them onto his face, smearing the lenses but not really caring. He looked around, he was in a sea of red, which instantly told him whose house he’d ended up crashing in. Grelle’s taste was fairly easy to spot, and he’d been to her house a few times since she’d taken over his training, so the dark hardwood floor with red rugs scattered across it was instantly recognisable, as was the very large and comfortable red sofa he was sitting on, and the dark red curtains covering the windows. A low coffee table and some overfilled bookshelves were the only other furniture in the room, and the walls were red as well, with several artistic photographs and a painting or two hanging from them. Ron yawned and rubbed his head, hoping to calm the headache. His bladder was signalling at him urgently, so he began levering himself up, thank god he didn’t have work today, Eric and Alan were in for a hell of a time today if they’d drunk as much as he had last night…

Bathroom was just down the hall right? Thinking was hard right now, but he was fairly certain it had been there last time he’d woken up with a hangover on Grelle’s sofa. He tried a door at random, only to be greeted with a snarl of disapproval, and a glower of green eyes under a tangle of red hair. Seemed he wasn’t the only one with a hangover! Mumbling apologies he backed out, trying the next door and stepping into the bathroom thankfully.

Urgent needs taken care of, Ron gave his clothes a careful sniff and grimaced. Last night was a bit of a blur in his mind, but he would not be surprised to find he’d spent some time rolling around on the floor, his clothes stunk of spilled alcohol and garbage. Thankfully no one had thrown up on him this time. He stripped quickly and stepped into Grelle’s shower, turning the water up as hot as he could stand it and letting it wash away the grime of a long night. The steam actually was helping with the very angry man inside his head, who put down his hammers and settled for just punching Ron’s brain whenever he moved too quickly which was a marked improvement on earlier so he decided to simply stay in the shower as long as possible. He felt around blindly for some shampoo, he probably should have looked to find it before he took his glasses off, he thought as he squinted at a bottle. It seemed to have a picture of hair on it, it would do he decided, squeezing a generous dollop onto his hand and rubbing it into his hair. He was quite proud of his hair, blond, thick and handsomely dishevelled; it earned him plenty of compliments from all the pretty ladies he was working with now.

Showers couldn’t last forever, no matter how much he might want them to, and with a sigh of regret he stepped out, tying a towel around his waist and hoping Grelle would have some clean clothes he could borrow. There was noise coming from the kitchen, which implied his senior had managed to get up now and hopefully was in the process of preparing food for them. Jamming his glasses back on he wandered out, feeling much more alive than he had when he’d first woken up. Grelle was in the kitchen, pouring far too much sugar into her coffee and frying some bacon. She looked over to him with a slight smile, clearly her hangover wasn’t nearly as bad as his had been and seemed about to say some sort of greeting when her eyes met his and the coffee cup fell from her hands and shattered on the floor as she stared at him in open mouth shock.

“What?” He asked, glancing behind him to check there wasn’t anyone else who’d come in or something. “What’re you looking at?” Had he got a tattoo or something last night? God he hoped not, he’d never live it down. He glanced down at his chest and legs but couldn’t see anything…and yep, was definitely wearing a towel so she wasn’t staring at that. Not that he’d expect her to look so horrified at a naked person in her house actually. “Grelle?”

“Ron…what did you _do?_ ” She said, eyes as wide as he’d ever seen them.

“I don’t…what are you on about?” Okay, now he was beginning to get a bit worried, what was going on?

“Your _hair…_ ” She said, raising a hand to her mouth and looking rather as though she was beginning to fight back giggles. Panicked, Ron reached up and pulled part of his hair down in front of his eyes. What should have been a nice golden blond hung accusingly in front of his face, a slightly washed out, streaky looking pink. No. No. What had he _done_ last night?

“I didn’t, what, how?” He spluttered, hurrying back to the bathroom to look frantically in the mirror, his reflection looking back at him, wide green eyes underneath messy pink and red hair. It looked awful, patchy and uneven, and pink! Why would he do that, dye his hair _pink? _This could not be happening; he was having some sort of alcohol fuelled nightmare. There was absolutely _no_ way he’d gotten so drunk he’d dyed his hair this awful colour!__

__Grelle had followed him in, her own red hair a contrast to his new follicular tragedy. She started rummaging through the myriad of bottles on the shelf in the shower while Ron wondered if he could just drown himself in the sink. He couldn’t go to work looking like this, no one would ever take him seriously ever again. He was ruined! He’d never get another date! Eric was going to piss himself laughing at him! No, he had to just desert, run away and hide out in the human world, cut it all off and wait until it grew back…his life was over! He groaned deeply and let his head rest against the mirror, a picture of absolute despair._ _

__“I don’t suppose you used this instead of shampoo?” Grelle asked, her voice wobbling with suppressed laughter. He shot her a glare, couldn’t she take the slightest bit of pity him? He was a pink haired nightmare, he just needed a little sympathy._ _

__“Maybe…”_ _

__“Ron…that’s hair dye sweetheart…not shampoo…did you even look at what you were using?”_ _

__“No? Why would I, wait, _you_ use hair dye?” He asked, straightening up incredulously. Too late he saw Grelle’s eyes narrow threateningly and hastily began backpedalling, his life was already ruined, a chainsaw through the chest would only make things worse. “I mean, it’s just…your hair is so beautifully red?” He tried. No luck, she was only looking more annoyed. “Um…I’m sure you just keep it in case, um…something happens?”_ _

__“Hmpf.” She tossed the bottle back in the shower, still frowning darkly at him. “It’s centuries old. I haven’t needed to use dye since I was your age.” She informed him haughtily. “I learnt better ways to change my looks than using chemicals.” She ran her hand through her hair, the red bleaching out to a dark brown and then back again._ _

__“You’re not a natural red head?” He asked again, amazed. She was just…red suited her so perfectly, he’d never questioned it. Grelle rolled her eyes at him._ _

__“Nature is a harsh mistress, it frequently doesn’t give us what we deserve. Do I look like I should be a brunette?” He shook his head quickly, not wanting to push his luck any further than he had already._ _

__“Red suits you, and I doubt anyone has ever questioned it authenticity before! I know I didn’t.” He confessed. Grelle seemed to soften slightly, pointed teeth falling into a more natural smile rather than a snarl._ _

__“Hmmm, well you’d better not mention it to anyone else, or pink hair will be the least of your concerns.” She threatened. “Now come on, let’s see if we can fix this disaster.”_ _

__Hope flared up in his heart, there was a way of fixing this? He wouldn’t have to go into work tomorrow looking like he’d been dragged through a strawberry field head down?_ _

__“Grelle, if you can fix this I will do anything for you!” He promised, following her back to the living room. “I will worship you forever, do absolutely anything you ask of me, just please please please fix this!”_ _

__“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Ronnie!” She laughed, shoving him gracelessly into a chair and going and fetching various things. “I’m a dab hand at cosmetics, but hair dye is a whole other deal. Honestly, you should check the labels before you put anything on your hair. Idiot.”_ _

__“I will never _ever_ use anyone else’s’ shampoo ever again,” Ron vowed. “I will never drink again. I will become a sober monk who stays at home and reads books and presses wild flowers, just please don’t leave me with badly dyed pink hair. Please!”_ _

__Grelle’s only answer was a laugh as she pushed Ron’s hair back into a bowl of water and began her work. The laugh was a bit disturbing, what if she were going to try and make it worse? As revenge for some slight he couldn’t even remember, or for becoming aware of the fact she wasn’t naturally red haired? He was rather at her mercy right now, he thought, listening to her humming to herself as her hands moved through his hair. It was actually really relaxing, when was the last time someone had washed his hair for him? Not since he was a child at least, and the sensations were amazing, warm water and soft fingers across his scalp, kneading through his hair, the strands floating freely in the bowl of water she’d brought. Eyes slipping closed Ron almost fell asleep there, leaning back in a chair with his head half in a bowl of water and his mentor carefully trying to remove the dye from his hair. Gentle splashes, Grelle’s humming, warmth and softness…so peaceful, so nice….even the angry man in his skull seemed to have been soothed to sleep by all this. He drifted, enjoying the feeling for what felt like forever._ _

__“Well…it’s as done as I can get it.” Grelle said at last, sitting back and drying her hands on a towel._ _

__“That sounds worrying…what happened?” Ron sat up, reaching for another towel as water ran down his neck, cool now and making him shiver as he was abruptly reminded he hadn’t actually had a chance to get dressed yet. Grelle passed him a mirror and he took a deep breath and flipped it up to examine the wreckage of what had once been a lovely blond head of hair._ _

__There was no pink, that was an instant relief and most of Ron’s tension dissolved immediately. No pink. He could cope with whatever else there was as long as there was no unnatural pink colouring his hair. It seemed mostly back to normal, perhaps a bit darker than it had been previously, almost golden looking but not too different…so why was Grelle sounding almost apologetic._ _

__“The dye was heavier towards the back of your head, I couldn’t get it to wash out, and I was assuming you’d prefer a more natural shade?” She asked and Ron tilted the mirror. The lower half of his hair had been dyed a dark brown, contrasting with the blond above up. Huh. It didn’t actually look too bad. Stylish almost. Half golden and half dark, it stood out without being ridiculous or drawing too much attention to him._ _

__“It’s good!” He said, surprised and heard Grelle huff behind him._ _

__“Of course it’s good, I know the importance of looks.” She said, standing up and tapping him on the top of his still damp hair. “If you want to keep it like that I can give you the dye, you’re lucky I still had some brown left over. And no, you don’t get to ask why. You’re too young for _that_ story. Now go and get dressed, there should be some clothes that will fit you in the spare room, I need some breakfast before any more disasters hit us.”_ _

__Ron laughed and went to do as he was told, pausing to admire his reflection in every mirror that he passed, this was definitely a good look for him; much better than streaky faded pink anyway. He could see the secretary girls being very impressed!_ _

__“Thanks Grelle!” He called back over his shoulder. “You’re a miracle worker!”_ _

__“I know, I know!”_ _


End file.
